Community

I love books. I especially love it when a book seems to come into my life as an unexpected delight.

This week I happened to pick up a copy of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together. It is a book that has come highly recommened but one I’ve never managed to read. For some reason, this was my time. I’m only two chaperters in and I’ve already been convicted and inspired. (A good combination, because one without the other usually fails to produce much change.)

Bonhoeffer’s main point in the first chapter is that as Christians we take fellowship with one another for granted. He points out that many Christians in the world do not share in the privilege of communion with other believers. Even Jesus’ disciples left him alone in his last hour. I know a missionary in Gaza who rejoiced when he was able to rent a home with a basement where the believers could lift the voices in song without the anti-Christian government overhearing them on the street.

Obviously, Macy is totally taking for granted the blessing of fellowship here:

And we probably all do the same thing, even despising the gift of each other at times.

Bonhoeffer writes, “between the death of Christ and the Last Day it is only by gracious anticipation of the last things that Christians are privileged to live in the visible fellowship with other Christians.”

Like Macy, it is easy to forget the blessings that are right next to us, especially when it is hot and they are trying to make us do something we don’t want to do. But, out of respect for the believers who yearn for just a fraction of the freedoms and blessings of fellowship that we enjoy, may we grow in our ability to cherish one another in every moment.

Looking for Thin Places

I’m reading a lot about monasticism and ancient spiritual disciplines right now. It probably doesn’t sound that interesting, but I am the kind of person who loves a deep dive into a research project. (So much to learn in this world and so little time with which to learn it!) As a mature but still hungry Christian, I am looking into ancient disciplines as a tool for knowing God more intimately.

In my reading this week I came across the term “thin places.” The Celtic Christians used this word to describe the places where heaven seemes especially near, where the invisiable barrier between our seen world and the spirit world becomes thin. Santuaries, altars, prayer rooms, and chapels have all been considered thin places. Nature offers thin places as well: mountain tops, sea sides, deserts, and trees. The thin place is anywhere that God feels especially near.

I’m looking for thin places this week. I’ve certainly felt them before but I’ve never used this terminology. I remember the thin place in the hospital rooms of my infant daughters - one went to Jesus, the other one stayed with us but pushed us near to Him at the same time. I feel a thin place anytime I visit a beautiful cathedral or an old country church.

I wonder, where do you find thin places? Does it always seem thin in the same place no matter your mood or circumstances, or do thin places come and go? Could you feel a thin place that I didn’t notice at all? Is this just a hyper-spiritual idea or is there some truth to this experience?

Happy Birthday

I’m a big fan of milestones. A couple of weeks ago, my baby, Macy Cheri, turned 1. This is her just getting into her birthday cupcake:

I don’t do a ton of super-domestic things, but I make cupcakes, really good cupcakes with fluffy marshmallow icing.

In May I heard a great idea at a baccalaureate service. (Graduations, birthdays, I love milestones!) The speaker told the young people about his family’s tradition of celebrating spiritual birthdays. They use a real birthday cake and everything. At the appointed time, the father places the spiritual birthday cake in front of the family member and asks them to tell the story one more time. What a great use of a milestone - a remembrance, a memorial. Each time they tell the story, the reality of the moment when they walked that asile or knelt in that bedroom is impressed deeper into their spiritual identity.

These are my two older girls when they were around Macy’s age:

And here they are a little older at a wedding reception:

I’ll use this picture to remind them of how they looked during the summer of their own spiritual birthdays:

Sunday Claire and Ada asked to go to the front of the church and “ask Jesus into” their hearts. It has never mattered to me if they did this in a formal way - growing into salvation makes as much sense to me - but I wasn’t about to refuse their sincerity in the moment. And later that night I made a note of the date and smiled imagining my two beautiful girls recounting this story year after year. What an awesome milestone!

Polished by Story

I love that diamonds are made shiny by polishing them with, get this, diamond dust! It’s a great analogy for the way our relationships are so important to our spiritual formation. The thing is, being polished by the hardest substance in the world, even if it is just dust, can’t be comfortable. I know I’m rarely comfortable when I feel the rub, rub, rub of a truth I need to hear.

I wouldn’t technically say I am in a relationship with Donald Miller either, not even on Facebook, but this week his words have been my diamond dust.

Earlier this week I had an email from Miller’s website that offered me a free download of a message he delivered recently with the title, “Let Story Guide You.” It is all about the way God uses so much narrative in the Bible and how he intends for those stories to speak for themselves, to guide our choices and decisions. For example, and this is the one Miller uses, the story of Joseph can lead us to many conclusions about characteristics that make a person successful. The funny thing is, God never gives us Five Principles of Leadership from the Life of Joseph. You know, there is no explanation, just the story.

So, this morning I was using the flat iron on my hair and constructing the perfect conversation with a friend of mine concerning the way I was going to handle her re-entrance into my good graces since her recent moral failure. How I was going to punish her appropriately and then slowly let her be my friend again. Suddenly, a story comes to my mind.

The Prodigal son is one of my favorite parables. But you know who really gets the zinger at the end of that parable? The guy who never left. Dad is all celebrating the son who returned from his spending spree and drunken party life and the older brother is mad. Guess who gets yelled at? Not the Prodigal - he gets forgiveness and grace. The brother gets chastised because the father assumed he would understand his heart of love and compassion since he had never left. The last word of this parable is basically the father saying, “I can’t believe you don’t get this.” (Read the actual English translation here.)

I hate you Donald Miller. You and your big ideas about story!

And, thanks for the polishing today. I think I get it.

How Can I Help You?

This is Macy, my 1 year-old, helping Ada, my 4 year-old, clean the kitchen. To explain, they were using a water bottle and paper towels. I’m pretty sure they didn’t make things worse, and they were very proud of themselves.

Today our pastor gave the church a new motto: “How can I help you?” Macy gets that, even at 1. You might say she isn’t smart enough to realize that she shouldn’t enjoy helping her sister do something.

Christians are a small percentage of the general population. Despite this fact, we find more reasons to separate from each other than to join forces. What if we all tried asking each other this simple question more often. Instead of criticizing, instead of analyzing, what if we just asked, “How can I help you?”

Macy doesn’t even know exactly what she was supposed to be doing with that paper towel, she just wanted to help her sister. I think sometimes I let my inexperience or my doubts about how it is all going to work out keep me from offering to help. As usual, I’d be a better Rare Rock if I had faith like a child!